him, but meanwhile-sorry. I just thought, with you new to your Earth powers-''

''You thought I'd go yank around at force lines in the ground, because they were there? What

am I, four? Come on, man.''

Ah, there was the Lewis I knew and loved, in that ironic lift in his voice. ''Jo, you know damn

well that if you're standing at ground zero of trouble, I have to assume you've got something to

do with it.''

''Convicted on prior bad acts?''

''Something like that.'' He was moving again. I heard the shrilling call of a siren as it ripped by

him and dopplered away, and then heard it coming into audio range on my end-same siren, or

very similar. ''Where are you?''

''Delvia's Bridal. Um, it was Delvia's Bridal, anyway. I think it's Super Discount Gowns now.

At the very least, there's going to be a whole lot of discounting going on.''

''And you say you didn't have a motive,'' Lewis replied. ''Right. I'm heading that way. Stay

put.''

He hung up before I could assure him I wasn't going anywhere. I looked around. The clerk was

making sad attempts to right sales racks and rehang gowns. Cherise exchanged a look with me,

nodded, and went to help. David, of course, could have waved a magic hand and put it all back to

rights, but that wasn't the way things were done, at least not out here in the open, where it could

be witnessed by the general public. We'd do most of our helping out later, when people weren't

looking.

At least, I hoped so. The old days of the Wardens leaving messes behind them were over-or so

I'd been assured. This would, I thought, be a good test of their resolve to do the right thing, and

if they didn't . . . well, I could always take names, kick asses.

''Not normal,'' I said aloud. ''This shouldn't have happened.''

I didn't need confirmation, but David gave it to me anyway. ''Someone caused it,'' he said.

''A Warden?''

He was silent. When I glanced his way, I saw that his eyes were growing lighter in color and

brighter in power . . . but then they cooled again, and he shook his head. ''Unknown.''

''What? How can it be unknown? How can you not know?'' Because David, after all, was sort of

the running definition of omniscient these days. Imagine those surveillance cameras you see on

every street corner, only for the Djinn, every single object in the world, living or inert, has a

history and a path through time that they can follow. David was capable of unspooling that

carpet back and following the threads to . . . nothing, apparently.

That was unsettling to me-to him, too, because he shot me a frown and said nothing in his own

defense. He turned away to pace, head down, and I was reminded for all the world of a tracking

dog trying to pick up a scent.

Vainly.

I felt a slight bump of power on the aetheric level– it took concentration to detect it-and knew

that someone had arrived. Someone of the Djinn variety. Could be a good thing; could be a bad

thing. . . . Either way, it would be unpredictable.

I turned, a determined smile on my face, and was relieved to see the Djinn Rahel lounging in the

cracked doorway, arms folded, surveying the damage with amused, lambently glittering eyes.

She was a tall creature, elegant as a heron, but her nature always put me in mind of a hunting

hawk-predatory, alert, always on the verge of striking.

Today she wore a bright lavender pantsuit in what looked like (and probably was) the softest of

peach skin. It was tailored within an inch of its life, clinging to her long legs and her sculpted

torso. Purple was a relaxed color for her, as it was for me. In a less conciliatory mood, she'd

have been wearing neon yellow.

''So,'' she said, in a low voice as rich as spilled syrup, ''does this mean the wedding is off?''

''You wish,'' I said. ''Thanks for the help. Oh, wait . . .''

Her smile widened, revealing white, even teeth. My, she was in a good mood. She didn't even

bother with sharpening them to freak me out. ''Did you need help, little sister? All you had to do

was ask.''

Like I'd had time to pretty-please. She tilted her head, still focused on me, and the hundreds of

tiny, meticulous braids in her ebony hair shifted and hissed together, and the tiny beads clacked.

Snakes and bones. I resisted the urge to shiver. I liked Rahel, and I thought she liked me, as

much as that kind of thing could happen, but I was never really . . . sure. You never could be,

with the Djinn.

And once again, she surprised me by saying, ''What do you need?''

Djinn didn't offer. But she did, and I gaped at her for a long, unflattering few seconds before I

got control and composed myself into a grateful expression. ''If you could check and let me

know if you find anybody wounded, anybody in trouble-''

She flipped a negligent hand-perfectly manicured, with opal polish on the sharp nails-and

misted away. I looked around. David hadn't bothered to turn, and the humans in the store and on

the street had been too preoccupied with their own trauma to recognize a truly strange thing

when they saw it.

Two seconds later, more or less, a shadow darkened the doorway, and Lewis edged in past the

sagging, glassless metal frame. He looked first to David and nodded; David had turned to face

him, which said something about how Lewis rated on the whole threat-level scale as compared to

Rahel. Not that Lewis was a threat, except in the sense that David probably never forgot (or

could forget) that Lewis and I had once been . . . close. Not for ages, but still. It hadn't been the

kind of one-night stand you forget.

Even so, the two of them were friends, if cautious friends. And they respected one another.

''Everybody okay here?'' Lewis asked. I gave him a silent thumbs-up, not quite daring myself to

speak. He looked-well, like Lewis. Drop him in the middle of Manhattan or in a forest in the

Great Northwest, and he basically remained unchanged. Blue jeans, hiking boots that had seen

miles of hard use, brown hair that shagged a bit too much, a three-day growth of beard on a long,

angular face. Almond-shaped, secretive dark eyes. ''Jo. We're setting up a staging area. I'm on

my way there now. If you're done here-''

''Yeah, I'll come with,'' I said. I'd had a purse at some point, and I went back into the changing

room to hunt for it. Good thing it was a hobo bag. I felt as if I matched it nicely, what with the

rumpled clothes, sweat, and plaster dust.

When I turned, David was right behind me. He steadied me with big strong hands, looking into

my eyes, and I couldn't resist an audible gulp. He just had that effect on me.

''Be careful,'' he said, and kissed me. It was probably meant to be one of those gentle little

pecks one partner gives another casually, but it turned into something else as our lips warmed

and parted and made pledges to each other we couldn't really keep at the moment.

When we parted, I felt significantly more alone, and I could see he did, too. David tapped me on

the end of my nose with one finger, an unexpectedly human sort of gesture, and gave me a

heartbreaking smile.

''I almost lost you,'' he said. ''I hate it when that happens.''

He'd really, truly lost me a couple of times. Once, he'd broken the laws of the Djinn and the

universe itself to bring me back. I was well aware how much he'd risked for me, and how much

he'd risk again if he had to.

I had to be more careful. Losing myself was one thing. Losing David was an unacceptable

something else.

Cherise was still in the main room, hanging up gowns and dusting them off, shaking them out.